


Content Adult

by mew_tsubaki



Series: Lonely Child, Content Adult [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, POV First Person, have some feels, mentions of Hanayaha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6988384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/mew_tsubaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watari decides to trade in some of his pragmatism for this continued chance at happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Content Adult

**Author's Note:**

> The Haikyuu! characters belong to Furudate Haruichi-sensei, not to me. Because I have an issue with not writing sequels and there needs to be more Matsuwata in the world. ;3 Read, review, and enjoy! *Note: This is the sequel to "Lonely Child" and will make more sense if you read that first.

I can feel my lips curving up in a smile when my internal clock signals that it's time for Issei-san to call. I don't even have to look at my watch or peek at the clock on my phone's screen. All I have to know is that I'm between afternoon classes with ten minutes before my next one begins and that Issei-san's break happens right around now.

Punctual as ever—something about him which still surprises me, given other parts of his personality—Issei-san's name pops up on my screen, right above a silly picture of him making a pufferfish face, a picture that was supposed to have been cute or handsome, not silly, not something that had made me laugh so hard I'd had to hold my sides. The picture's slightly blurry as a result, but I've never swapped it out for any of the other pictures of him I've taken since. Somehow it just wouldn't feel right to change it.

I let it ring twice before answering. "Hello, Issei-san," I say, and I hope he can hear the smile in my voice.

"Shinji~" He sounds so relieved. He often does when he calls during the day on a weekday, and I'm glad. I'm glad that, given his current circumstances, there's something that can cheer him up and take his mind away from his responsibilities, and that that something is me.

"Long day?" I ask as I arrive early to my lecture hall. I take a seat in the back and figure I have a few minutes before people start flooding in, before it becomes futile and rude to stay on my phone.

"Nah. I'm just tired. And it's only Wednesday," he groans.

I get my notebook and favorite pen out and line them up, holding my phone up to my ear with my shoulder as I push my other things aside. "Don't think of it as 'only' being Wednesday. Think, 'It's already Wednesday!'" I sigh, amused. "Unless your plans changed and you can't come out this way for the weekend?"

There's a very quiet, very low sound on the other end which I recognize as Issei-san's disgruntled whimper. I know it well enough by now after more than two years together, but I'd be lying if I said it doesn't make me want to laugh. The thing is, Issei-san sometimes acts like the younger, impatient one in our relationship, and it's hard not to find that adorable when it comes from your boyfriend who's a head taller than you and one and a half times as wide.

When he still hasn't answered me, my amusement ebbs. "Issei-san?" I prompt.

"No, they haven't changed," he assures me. "My weekends are for you, Shinji."

Those stupid butterflies people in love talk about? They exist, and they flutter around in my stomach at his bold proclamation. "Well, not _every_ one can be," I remind him, and I'm glad we're not chatting via webcam, otherwise he'd see how flustered he's made me, and he'd smile too knowingly at it and I'd never live it down.

"I know, I know… It'd be too expensive to do that, and you'd never get any studying done," he adds, cheekier than usual.

I chuckle, but his boldness gets to me, so my chuckle comes out more like a giggle. I roll my eyes at that. No one's made me feel this way before and hasn't since I met Matsukawa Issei, but sometimes I almost get frustrated with how his romance sweeps me off my feet, makes me forget to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground. It doesn't help that he's gotten bolder over the years and takes his chances when we're on the phone.

I hear his sister calling for him in the background, so I know our call's over. "…damn. Gotta go." He pauses and adds in a quiet voice, "Love you, Shinji. See you soon."

Maybe it's a good thing that the lecture hall's practically empty right now, because I don't have to look into a mirror to know I'm beet red. We don't exchange those words that often, precisely because I react so readily to them, and Issei-san knows this. "See you soon," I echo weakly, and I know he doesn't mind that I don't say the same three words to him. He knows how I feel and has always had more faith in me than I have in myself.

He trusts me, he knows me, and he loves me. And I know he knows I feel the same.

* * *

I can feel my lips go numb, I've pressed them into such a thin, straight line as the next couple of days drag on far too slowly, putting too much distance between me and Issei-san. Honestly, the weekends can never come fast enough.

My feet tap to some ghost rhythm as I study while on the bus ride to the train station. I flip through the index cards I made, but nothing about biology and the water cycle and photosynthesis is sticking. I'm just too anxious to be at the station already, to pick him up.

I sigh and pocket the cards, choosing instead to stare out the window, trying to do away with my anxiety, replace it with excitement. Really, I _should_ be happy. Ever since I told Issei-san to think practically about our relationship and not take it too seriously back in the end of my second year—his third and last—he has respected my wishes while at the same time done his best to be a crazy enough for the both of us. If someone had told me back then that I'd be maintaining a long-distance relationship with him, I probably would've said that was impossible, since I doubted the feasibility of such a thing.

But, here we are, handling the distance well, making plans most weekends, and staying in touch easily. A part of me wants to tell seventeen-year-old Watari Shinji that it's not a bad thing to go with Issei-san's flow.

The bus finally arrives, and I let the crowd carry me off the vehicle. Once the late-morning rush disperses, I search around for that mop of curly, black hair, knowing I'll be able to spy it above the average person's head. And, a minute later, I find him.

Issei-san looks the same as ever—same haircut, same t-shirt and jeans, same overnight bag. The only difference is that he looks a little older. When I get close enough to touch him, I understand why with a laugh. "Forgot to shave?" I tease him.

He rubs the faint scruff around his mouth and scratches his jaw. Then he playfully sticks the tip of his tongue out at me. "Had to leave early to make the three-hour journey," he replies.

"I know," I say, and I grab his right hand and pull him along, the both of us ignoring the looks someone as good-looking as Issei-san always attracts at crowded places. Sometimes I think some of the looks might be at the two of us together, close as we are, affectionate as we are in public, but I've never cared much about that. It means too much to me to show my loved ones affection to bother hiding it from the eyes of others.

Issei-san's gotten more used to that side of me, too, and I've rubbed off on him. Once we're outside on the street, he digs his heels in and doesn't let me drag him any further until he's had the chance to plant a soft (and scratchy, I think with a laugh) kiss to my forehead.

Never satisfied with just that much, I lean up on tiptoes and pull on his forearms until I can kiss him on the lips. His scruff really is alien and scratchy, but this taste is _Issei_ nevertheless. After I pull away, I sink into his arms and am happy when his arms wrap around me. I'm so glad the weekend's just beginning.

We wait for the bus, and we make loose plans for the next couple of days. He's not punctual with just me. He left as early as he could to join me in the city, but he can't shirk his duties as a part-timer at his family's pharmacy back home, even though he shows no signs of wanting to follow in his parents' or sister's footsteps. He'll have to get back at a reasonable hour tomorrow night on Sunday.

"Ah, and you know the routine by now," I remind him as we settle into our seats on the right bus to head back to my university. "I'll need to sneak you in when the dorm president's out, but I think I heard he's cramming for a midterm, so we might catch a break."

Issei-san shrugs, but I know he's confident we can manage fine. I'm a couple months in to my first year, so we've a couple months of this routine under our belts, and we've done well so far. All I can think sometimes is that I'm glad to have a single, tiny though it may be.

On campus, we stroll across the green in the center and head for the dormitory. I peek in the office and find it vacant, so I breathe a sigh of relief and motion for Issei-san to follow me. We hurry up the stairs to the fifth floor, passed briefly by Yahaba who says "hi" and gives me a knowing smirk, but I know he won't be able to tease me too much later—not when I know he does the same exact thing with Hanamaki-san.

_Finally_ , we're at my door, and we both laugh once the door is closed behind us. Issei-san drops his bag and leans against the door, pulling me to him, our chests bumping together oddly as our laughs shake our bodies.

Once calmed down, I back away and shed my sweatshirt, and Issei-san follows me. Well, as best he can. My room's tiny enough as it is without him in it. When Issei-san visits me here, he always puts me in mind of a large, docile old dog who thinks he's a puppy and therefore can fit anywhere. It's an adorable image, made better by the puppy eyes he gives me.

But my thoughts always turn fuzzy after those puppy eyes, because what follows that look is a kiss…and then another kiss, and another. The next thing I know, Issei-san has my arms wrapped around his neck, and the world's tilting sideways as we end up on my bed. I can't even think about wishing he'd shaved when his hands roam and find all the right places…and when he's inside me and we're connected and it's so easy to forget that we only spent a week and a half apart and not a year and a half.

* * *

I can feel my lips tingle for days after he goes back home.

It must show on my face, my bliss, because Yahaba makes a face at me when we grab lunch together later in the week. "Ugh, Watari…just… You're supposed to leave your sex face at _home_."

Well, _that_ snaps me out of my stupor. "Yahaba!" I hiss, but I don't have it in me to get actually angry at him, and I try my hardest to force my stupid grin off my face. "You shouldn't say stuff like that in public. Least of all while we're eating," I add as I make a show of unwrapping the cold sub I'd bought for lunch.

"You know, I'm surprised." His eyes flick to me above his bento. "What? I mean, you're totally fine being all smoochy-smoochy with Matsukawa-san anytime and anywhere, but you've legit _no_ stomach to talk about such things except in private."

"There's a difference between PDA and TMI," I point out to him matter-of-factly.

Yahaba eats and watches me, but eventually he smiles wryly at me. "I'm glad, though, for you."

"What do you mean?"

"How are things going with you guys?"

I pause at his question. "…fine. Why do you ask?"

"I've just always found your relationship interesting. Takahiro-san, too. He says Matsukawa-san had the biggest crush on you for a while before asking you out. He was happy for him when you accepted Matsukawa-san's feelings, and really you guys are cute together."

Yahaba's comments are unexpected, but I get where they're coming from, and a pleasantness pools in my middle at hearing them. "Well, we're more than cute together. We're good, really good." I send him a look. "As I'm sure you must've guessed when you passed by us last weekend."

He snickers. "Yep. But…it's a relief to hear that coming from you."

I pause again, this time confused. "Why?"

Yahaba's distracted momentarily when two classmates wave to him and he has to wave back. Then he scooches his chair around the table closer to me before continuing our conversation. He seems a bit nervous. "To be honest…I was concerned that…things might've happened differently at one point." He furrows his brow as if preparing for me to be upset with him.

I don't understand _why_. I'm just curious. "'Differently'?" I echo.

He pushes his lunch aside for a second. "Frankly, I thought there was a time during second year when you guys might've split."

That…is not what I'd thought Yahaba might say. Ever. I don't respond to him, thinking back on second year, when Issei-san and I first got together. I try replaying the whole year through my head, and the only down part had been when I told Issei-san to lessen the severity of our relationship, not to have such high expectations for our romance since it was a first for the both of us and because we were both young. But breaking up with him? Such a thought had never entered my mind, and I can't think of it even now.

I must be frowning since Yahaba bumps his shoulder against mine and apologizes. "I didn't mean to bring up bad things. I just—"

"No. I get it," I assure him, and I feel better when we both resume eating. And I do get it. He's my friend and is glad that my relationship defied expectations. It always is, and sometimes I find even myself stupefied that Issei-san and I have managed to pull it off. But we have. Where there's a dreamer and a pragmatist in love, there's a way.

* * *

I can feel sleep weighing my smile down as my eyelids grow heavy, but I don't want to tell him goodnight, not yet.

Issei-san doesn't want to, either, and he chuckles on his end of our video chat. "Ahh…it's late, isn't it?"

"Not _too_ late," I retort.

"Y'know, I recall when you were the one always to scold me about going to sleep."

"Your bad habits have rubbed off on me."

He chuckles again. "Thankfully your good ones have rubbed off on me."

I cross my arms on my desk, much as I did when I lived in my parents' house, resting my chin on my arms, staring at Issei-san's face on my screen, memorizing for the umpteenth time the symmetric arches of his eyebrows, the slight turn to the right his nose has, how his lips always look a little dry if he hasn't been kissed in a while. At that last thought, I think about the next time we'll meet and my chance to fix that, and my chance to run my hand through his hair, which is one of the softest things I've ever known, one of my favorite things to touch, always silky and smooth and untangled, how my fingers can never get caught in the curls. I think, too, about the undercut below the crown of curls, and running my fingers over it and down the nape of his neck and just holding him.

When my eyes connect with his, I get the sense that he's thinking similar things, and he smiles, even with his eyes.

"It's getting colder, though," I say, pulling us from our reveries and rubbing the sleep dust from my eyes. "I don't know when the first snow will fall, but keep that in mind when checking the trains when you next come down to the city."

He nods, but he subtly licks his lips. He has something he wants to say.

"Issei-san?"

"I might not have to worry about the trains anymore…"

I furrow my brow, feeling more awake. "What do you mean?" Oh no. Maybe his family finally brought up The Subject one too many times and he's finally caved. Just when I'm about to remind him that he's never wanted to study medicine, he answers me:

"Hanamaki and I are making plans to move to the city."

Oh. Wait. "What?" I think aloud. I gape at the screen.

The apples of his cheeks are rosy, and his eyes sidle to the right. "Yeah… Two permanent part-timers with no plans whatsoever."

I almost laugh as I look at him skeptically. "That doesn't really sound like you, Issei-san…"

"Yeah, it's Hanamaki's dumb idea. But I'm nothing if not his partner-in-crime."

I do laugh at that. He and Hanamaki-san have been that from the get-go, so it makes sense. "Does Yahaba know yet?"

Issei-san shakes his head. "Nah, he's planning on telling him at the last possible second." Issei-san's warm black eyes are back on me. "But I'm crap at hanging on to secrets around you."

A couple of butterflies reappear in my stomach, and my heart picks up pace. I don't know what to say to that, and we end the night, as Yahaba would say, being "too gooey for anyone to witness."

* * *

I can feel how tired my smile is as the next few weeks fly by and Issei-san and Hanamaki-san follow through and actually move to the city.

Since Issei-san told me about their move, something's been bugging me. I know exactly what it is, but I don't say anything to Issei-san. I know I have nothing to worry about…but I worry anyway.

The thing is, I get how close he and Hanamaki-san are. I know they've known each other for a year longer than I've known Issei-san and Yahaba's known Hanamaki-san. I know they're "partners-in-crime."

But I also know they briefly dated in their first year at Seijou.

Issei-san told me so after we'd been together for a year and showed signs of staying together despite him graduating. "It was like a string of flings and seeing if they worked, but they never panned out," he'd said, but they'd been best friends ever since.

He's someone who believes in "opposites attract," and I can't deny that he and I are very much so opposites. But I can't shake the squirmy feeling I get when I think about what he and Hanamaki-san have in common and how well they get along. The other third years in our club even commented about how they were each other's echo.

But Issei-san is going to be nearby now, going to be closer and more readily accessible. And I know I need to push my worries out of my mind. So I throw myself into my studies in preparation for finals. I pick up practicing with Yahaba since he's already joined the volleyball team and insists that I'm acclimated to university life by now and that our school's team needs a capable libero ASAP, so I'll need to be in shape for tryouts after winter break.

I do everything I can to avoid the notion that I might be a little… _jealous_.

(Ugh, it's painful even to _think_ of the word.)

Still, I'm logical and know that's what it is. I do my best to ignore it once the two older men are settled down and I push it completely out of my mind when Issei-san schedules our first date since the move. I'm on my best behavior when we go out to dinner one night, just the two of us, to a Japanese-style restaurant and order our drinks and food and fall into light conversation.

"It feels a bit like a dream, now that we're all unpacked," Issei-san says. He runs a hand back and forth through his hair, and it's distracting. He peeks up at me from beneath his dark lashes, and I think about how the cold, winter air has still gotten to him, his cheeks and nose are still rosy even though we're indoors.

I blink, trying not to be mesmerized by his stare. "Uh, yeah…"

Issei-san leans his elbow on his knee and cups his cheek in his palm, swirling his can of beer in his other hand. "I'm still wondering what city life will be like. Hanamaki's gonna search for every 'Help Wanted' sign he can find, but I'm actually planning to find another shop like my family's. I mean, why not? Since I have the experience—"

"Issei-san."

He blinks slowly, but I know he's terrible at playing dumb. He can sense the seriousness in my tone.

I hate interrupting, but I finish what I started. "What about when I'm done with school?"

He blinks twice more, more like normal, startled. He waits for me to continue.

"What about then?" I frown. "Yahaba… Yahaba will probably be living with Hanamaki-san by then. And you…you should be living with me."

Issei-san stares at me dumbly and I stare back, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. We don't even acknowledge the waitress when she brings our food and puts it down, scurrying away from "the gay couple's serious conversation." Issei-san's beer is raised midair, paused mid-sip, before he finally mumbles, "…that's three years into the future at least, Shinji."

I finish my transformation into a tomato and look away at last, though the picture of his wide eyes is burned into my retinas. "I-I know…"

Without looking at him, I'm unsure of what face he makes, and he says nothing to give himself away. But I highly doubt that he's thinking about anything but how we've influenced each other, how there was a time when I didn't think of the future, of _our_ future, of the possibility that this love could last forever or that maybe it was worth a shot to try and make that happen against all odds.

I scratch the back of my neck, nervous, and reach for my utensils, wondering how long this pause has dragged out and if the food's even hot anymore.

But then Issei-san reaches across the table for my hand, and he tickles the pads of my fingers until I shyly look up at him…only to find him smiling, warm and wide, cheeks pink, and probably not because it's cold outside. "Then it's a date."

It's so hard not to get swept away by him, especially when he says such things…especially when I want to hear him say such things. And all I can think is that… _ahh_ , I really do love him, and that thought repeats in my head intermittently throughout the rest of the night as he interlaces our fingers and we finish dinner holding hands and I'm put in mind of that first year I fell in love with him and we'd end lunch the exact same way.

We've tried to end all our meals like that ever since, but I know for certain we'll be ending them this way from now on.

**Author's Note:**

> *has died from the cuteness* 8D I'm super happy with how this turned out. After writing "Lonely Child," I wanted to show that these two can still be ridiculously in love, but that there's been a slight shift in their outlooks. Whereas Mattsun was the one with faith in them before, Watacchi's come to realize that's not such a bad thing. Plus I liked building on some things from "Lonely Child," such as the hand-holding, the previous mention of Matsuhana, the implied Hanayaha, how Matsuwata notice details in one another…and how it's time for Mattsun to be a bit realistic and for Watacchi to do some dreaming himself. And, well, hell. I'm just in love with Mattsun. Can I be Watacchi, please? XD Also, Yahaba. What a good, annoying friend. ;D
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review! Check out my other [HQ!] fics, too, if you liked this!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki -w-


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